Undercover
by Patufet
Summary: After his mother's death, Peter Parker is adopted by his aunt and uncle, two scientists working for Hydra. A few years later, he is sent on his first field assignment: he must become a high school student, and infiltrate Stark Industries.
1. Prologue

**Hello, and welcome to this story. I hope you like it!**

* * *

Mary Parker looked up at Loki with a sad smile. He pulled her in for a hug, and kissed her hair softly. The buzzing in his ears and sinking feeling in his stomach were making him dizzy. He closed his eyes, exhaling softly.

When Loki decided to go on a "field trip" to Earth a few years ago, Asgard had been at peace for centuries. He had grown tired of the constant competition between his older brother and him, and had wished to escape the stifling court life for a few years. Only Heimdall and his mother knew he was on Midgard, but they never actively sought him out. He liked to think that he had successfully shielded his precise location from them, but he had a suspicion that they simply did not want to cut his few years of borrowed freedom short. He did regularly visit Asgard through his dreams, to check on his family.

After a few months of travelling, he had moved to New York, and enrolled into a Midgardian university. That's where he had met Mary Parker. They now lived together, in a small house, with a cat (oh, he loved cats).

A few months ago, when he had told her why he had some weird Shakespearian quirks and why he always insisted on going on holidays to Norway once in a while, she had just laughed and said it explained a lot. A few days later, he asked her about her own rather mysterious family, and she had said, with a frown, "you wouldn't believe what _my_ family is like". They then had carried on with their daily lives, and had not talked about their respective families.

He opened his eyes, and looked Mary.

A few minutes ago, when he had gone to Asgard through his dreams, he had seen his people readying for battle. He had shaken himself awake, and looked at his side. Mary hadn't been there. He had quickly stood up, opened the bedroom's bay window, and walked into the garden. He knew that Mary often sat there with her notebook, working on scientific theories until the early hours of the morning, before staggering to bed and burrowing into his lap to fall asleep.

Sure enough, Mary had been there, sitting on a large wooden chair, her legs propped up on a small coffee table. Her left hand holding a steaming cup of tea, her right rapidly typing in numbers into a bulky laptop.

He had smiled sadly and sat down next to her. Her eyes had widened when he told her that Jotunheim had started an open war with his realm, and she had nodded, sombre, when he said that he couldn't not stand by while his people suffered.

She tightened the hug, bringing him back to the present. He kissed her hair, readying himself, and silently called upon Heimdall.

He broke away from her, and she looked up at him, eyes glistening. She opened her mouth to speak, but the Bifrost opened, and he was pulled far, far away from her. He didn't know then, but he would not be able to return to Earth for many years.

* * *

Peter was born almost nine months after Loki left.

Mary knew that her child was bright, maybe too bright for a human. He reminded her of Loki so much. He was a very intelligent and sweet child, who loved animals – it sometimes seemed like he could converse with them. She also despaired about his tendency to underestimate risk. One day, she took him on a picnic to a park next to their small flat. She got the scare of her life when he fell off a tree's branch after bringing a chick back to its nest while she wasn't looking. The fall should have broken a few of the six-year-old's bones, but he just stood up. And that little imp smiled nervously, knowing that she would berate him about carefulness and not climbing trees when she wasn't looking. This incident confirmed what she had always suspected. Peter had inherited more Asgardian traits than just his father's intelligence.

When Peter asked his mother why he couldn't meet his uncle and aunt, Ben and May Parker, she told him that they lived far away, and that he was too young to travel all the way to New York from California, where they both had moved a few years prior. What Mary Parker didn't tell her son is that they hadn't moved because of her post-doc offer at Caltech. They had moved to get him away from Ben and May. She repeated to herself, again, and again, 'they must never notice anything unearthly about Peter'.

A short while after Peter turned seven, at the end of a very warm August, one of her lab partners fell sick, and she was chosen to stand in for him at a national research conference in Washington D.C. It was a last minute decision, and she ran to her neighbours, who accepted to look over her son for a few days.

After hugging her son for a last time, and telling him to behave – causing him to smile innocently at her, the little devil -, she thanked her neighbours again for taking him into their flat for a couple of days. She waved goodbye at him, blowing him a kiss, before closing the door of the taxi that would drive her to the airport.

A few hours later, shortly after going to bed, Peter woke up, short on breath. A faint light was filtering under his bedroom's door, and he could hear his neighbours whispering agitatedly in the living room. He heard his and his mother's names multiple times. His hands started shaking, and his vision blurred. Something was wrong.

He padded to the door, and slowly opened it. His neighbours heard his sharp intake of breath, and quietly guided him over to the sofa. The TV, muted in the background, showed flash news about a plane crash. Peter cried for the rest of the night.

* * *

Peter moved into an orphanage at the end of the summer. His first day in grade 3 was bittersweet; his friends took his mind off his grieving, providing him some temporary relief, but he nearly crumbled into tears when his mother was not been there, waiting for him outside the school, after the last bell of the day rang.

Today was no different; he had been feeling restless during the last period, and nearly jumped when the bell rang. Walking out of school, he squeezed his eyes shut for a second, forcing himself to not look at the tree that his mum used to lean against while waiting for him.

He sighed, pulled the straps of his backpack to adjust it, and started to walk back to the orphanage. After a few meters, he was brought to a stop by the sight of a couple. The man looked rather similar to his mother. His stomach gave a churl, and his hair stood on end; but he forced his feelings down, and stared up at them, smoothing his expression.

The woman had been looking at him since he had walked out of school, and looked like she had been seconds from calling him out herself. Peter could tell that she was surprised that he had noticed her before she had made herself known, but she was hiding it well. She came closer to him.

"Hello, Peter. My name is May Parker, and this is your uncle Ben." Peter looked at the man standing next to her again; he looked like his mother, but something was off about his smile. He shivered. "We looked for you for a long time, and only learned of your address when we got the tragic news about your mother a few weeks ago. We have just finished up the paperwork with the social workers in charge of you, and we decided to come straight to your school to pick you up."

Peter's eyes flicked to the paper that she was holding, and true to her words, it was a fully signed-and-stamped adoption form.

He swallowed and forced himself to smile up at them, ignoring the faint warning bells going off at the back of his mind.

"Could I go back to the orphanage to get my things?"

"Don't worry, we took care of everything." His uncle said. His voice was deep, and made him start slightly. He shook his head, attributing his jumpiness to the surprise of meeting his mysterious relatives, and took the hand that May was holding out for him. He looked back at his old school, and at his mother's tree, before swallowing down.

"Let's go."

* * *

**Gasp! What is up with Ben and May?**


	2. Hydra

Peter woke up at 6am precisely, like every day since he had moved in with his uncle and aunt, two years ago. They lived in a small flat within a research base, which consisted of multiple tunnels criss-crossing the subsurface, with occasional small windows on the outside world. The base was hidden in a dense temperature forest, which he knew went for miles and miles in all directions. Peter hadn't gone to school in two years, as his relatives insisted on homeschooling him. They sometimes taught him themselves, but often delegated his education to other operatives.

Yes, operatives. The term sounded foreign to him when he had first heard it from the mouth his aunt, but he had rapidly grown used to it. The operatives would call him 'project', or 'asset'; only his relatives and his teachers called him Peter. At first, he found that a bit strange too, but then he heard about another 'asset' after a few days of living in the base. Maybe that was just the name they gave to children here?

He really thought that his relatives could have taken him to meet that other asset, because he hadn't interacted with another kid in years. But he kept the thought to himself, because he knew how his uncle would react if he voiced it. His uncle had a very short temper, and he had learnt this the hard way when he had asked him where his stuff from the orphanage was. He really missed his tiger plushie, but he would never admit it.

A sharp knock at his door brought him back to the present.

He stood up, pulled on the grey clothes provided to him by the base, and walked out of his small windowless room with a small smile. Today was going to be an _okay_ day, because grey clothes meant that he wasn't going to be going into the medical lab - he knew that because the doctors always insisted on him wearing pale green clothes.

Ever since May had realised that he healed much faster than expected, he had gone through countless medical examinations. He hated them so much, but he was never given a choice. The doctors usually would take some tissue and blood samples, or use MRI to look at his brain. Sometimes, they put him to sleep – he had learnt not to struggle against anaesthetics, and they had learnt that he needed a much stronger dose than most people when he awoke mid-operation, thrashing, and broke one of the surgeon's nose. After the medical sessions, he always woke up in his room, groggy and confused, with faint scars on his limbs, that faded within a few days. However, such tests were becoming rare, and he hoped that the scientists had found whatever they had been looking for, and would not be asking more of him.

Honestly, he probably would have found whatever they were looking for much earlier if he had looked into it himself. Peter was certain that the doctors in the medical ward dragged the investigations on just to get to hurt him some more. But he knew better than to say that to his relatives or to any of the operatives. He remembered his first few months at the base, which had been the worst; any sign of reluctance to follow orders was systematically beaten out of him by his uncle.

Said uncle's sharp voice rang through the small flat, and he shuddered, jumping to his feet.

"Peter, please report to the kitchen now. Today is a big day."

The kid quickly left his room and walked into the kitchen, greeting his uncle and aunt with a nod. He knew that any of his small morning talk would get ignored, although he really wished that he could talk to them freely.

His aunt gestured to a small bowl of porridge, and he sat down while she spoke.

"Today, you will begin phase 2 of your training," she said, looking at him with a frown, "The Asset is waiting for you in the gym, and he will not tolerate tardiness. After that, report to your usual classes. We will be seeing you tonight."

He nodded, and couldn't prevent himself from asking, "Does this mean that I will not have more medical tests?"

They exchanged a look, and he held his breath.

"If you comply, we will keep them to the strict necessary." His uncle gave him a smile that didn't reach his eyes, "Now run along."

He nodded and quickly shovelled the rest of the porridge into his mouth – the portions provided in the base were never quite enough for him, but he didn't complain. He stood up, turned, and smiled to himself, taking a few seconds to celebrate.

He then entered a code into the wall interface, and the flat's door slid open. Walking out, he smoothed his clothes and tried to force himself to walk normally and not bounce everywhere with relief and anticipation. Who was this Asset?

After a few sharp turns along various corridors, and a brief glimpse of the early morning sky – it looked like it was going to be a beautiful day outside - Peter walked into a darkly lit gym.

He knew from experience what new instructors liked to do. Breathing in sharply, he rolled down a split second before a fist hit the air where his face had just been. He only had a moment to stand up before punches and kicks fell on him, but he evaded them most of them, twisting and jumping away from the attacks. He tried to force his adversary away with a quick, strong push, but a metallic hand – oh, I wonder how it works!- grabbed his wrist firmly and twisted Peter's arm behind him. The young boy forced his opponent over his back and to the ground, and both struggled and rolled around the gym. The fight ended with Peter pushed down on the ground in a Russian arm lock.

The main lights were turned on. Peter was roughly pulled to his feet. He blinked a few times, brushed his sweaty palms against his trousers, and turned around to properly look at his attacker. A man in his mid-twenties, with stormy eyes and a left arm made of metal. 'I guess "Asset" doesn't actually refer to kids', he thought to himself. He straightened, and greeted him.

"Hail Hydra."

* * *

**Hehehe, love Bucky. Sorry to anyone who doesn't like Evil!Ben and May Parker.**


	3. Hydra 2

Peter turned off the tap and put his toothbrush down before ruffling his hair and walking out of the bathroom and into his bedroom. He let himself fall on his bed with a 'oof', and enjoyed the small bouncing motion of the mattress for a few seconds before reaching over and turning off his bedroom's light. Keeping his blanket down near his feet – he never actually got cold, for some reason –, he turned left and right for a few minutes before adopting his favourite fall-to-sleep position. He sighed contently, and relaxed his facial features.

Combat training used to be what he disliked most. No, actually, it had always been medical exams. But combat used to come a close second. He had been used as a punching bag-slash-moving target practice by the multiple operatives that were supposed to be training him. They had trained him, sure, as he now had a very high pain tolerance, and amazing dodging skills. But since the Asset had started teaching him, Peter actually enjoyed combat training. He got to counterattack, and learnt a lot. But what really mattered to the young boy was that he could relax a bit, and talk about anything, chattering to his instructor to his heart's content. He mostly got grunts and nods as answers, but it was so much more interesting than staring at his bedroom's wall and whispering nonsensical things to himself at night - he wasn't crazy., just very lonely.

The now twelve-year old boy wished to himself that he could just learn fighting techniques all day. He told the Asset one day, and the man smiled at him, leading Peter to be in a good mood for a week. The man did enjoy Peter's company!

Of course, the boy knew that he had many other lessons to attend throughout the day. He could now speak half a dozen languages, and understand a few more. His science classes had been converted into lab sessions to the great relief of his tutors, who had run out of material for him – Peter had been having some fun by asking questions about advanced concepts, and watching the tutors stand up and leave the small classroom, with distressed faces, when they couldn't answer him.

He also had long, extensive history lessons every week. Over the years, he had had to write countless essays about how Hydra had been formed to fight against oppressing governments and their ruthless intelligence agencies. He wrote equally as many history essays from the point of view spread by these oppressing governments, so that once in the field, he could blend into the role of a generic teenager without detection.

He knew that Hydra was currently infiltrated into SHIELD – after all, his uncle was an undercover scientist within SHIELD, utilising the US government's resources for his genetic research. Peter strongly suspected that his uncle used his medical results and DNA for his experiments, but he never dared to ask him about that. Peter himself had never gotten approval to look at his own DNA. He had discreetly done some tests in the lab on his blood, and he knew that there was something different about him. He couldn't pinpoint what through further experiments, because of the dozens of scientists watching his every movement.

He understood that everyone in Hydra was working hard to secure a better future for humanity. Honestly, Peter couldn't wait for that future to come. It would make everyone at Hydra relax a fraction. He constantly felt like someone was going to bite his head off if he looked at them wrong or something.

Peter knew that soon the time would come for him to play his role and support Hydra out in the field. He had been training for it for over five years, and he was itchy to prove to everyone that he wasn't a liability. His fighting technique was on par with that of the asset, and he was much stronger than him physically. He didn't know why he was so strong, and he suspected that not many people were able to crush metal handles when they hit their toes on door frames.

At night, he spent countless hours wondering why Hydra had chosen him as their 'project', and what would happen to him when he joined the outside world. How it would be to pretend to be someone he was not. But he was really looking forward to leaving the Hydra base. He rarely got to go outside nowadays, and "outside" was basically a small enclosure with no trees and sad-looking grass.

Sure enough, the time came, just after he turned thirteen. It was early September, and he was in a good mood because his morning session with the Asset had gone really well. He had managed to hit all the moving targets with knives whilst facing the other way, with his eyes closed. It was so cool, in his opinion; the Asset had made a snorting noise when Peter voiced his thoughts. After lunch – porridge, again -, Peter walked into his history classroom. He jumped slightly when he saw that the Asset, along with his aunt, uncle, and high-ranked officials of Hydra, were sitting in the room.

Peter's stomach clenched, but he controlled his breathing. He could do this. He crossed the room and sat into the remaining chair, not meeting the eyes of the adults around the room apart from that of the Asset.

"I presume that you know why you are here, Project."

Peter internally winced when the white-haired woman addressed him by his official denomination – he would never get used to it. Out of the corner of his eye, Peter saw the Asset frown slightly as well before adopting neutral features. Peter looked at the woman, and nodded mutely.

"We have decided to enrol you at the Midtown High, in New will be living with May Parker in a flat in Queens for the year. Report to the front doors in thirty minutes for transportation."

And that's when Peter Parker's life really got interesting.

* * *

**What will happen in New York?**


	4. First day at Midtown

**Thank you very much for the nice comments, and I hope that you will all like this new chapter :)**

* * *

Moving into a flat with 'Aunt May', as she instructed him to call her, was a surreal experience. She had always been a strict woman, who had never directed a smile at him. But as soon as they walked into the apartment building, she suddenly morphed into an overly sweet lady requiring help to carry a slightly decrepit couch up three floors to her newly-leased flat. He nearly snorted when he heard her fake high-pitch voice, but she glared at him and he didn't make a sound. After all, she reminded him later on in the evening with a stern tone, she was only doing this for the mission, because they were supposed to be undercover.

Peter had been provided with colourful furniture, clothes, and posters – what on earth are "star wars"? he could vaguely remember his mum mentioning that she had to introduce him to the star wars universe, and it sounded vaguely ominous to him now. He even had a bunk bed. He had read about them in some novels, but had never thought he would ever sleep on a top bunk, ever. The mattress was slightly harder than his own worn one back at the base, but he adored the bed anyway. It was as if Hydra had been withholding on his birthday and Christmas gifts for all these years for one big surprise. His 'Aunt May' – he was still half-expecting her to whack his head for such familiarity – even took him out for Chinese food to keep up appearances (anyone can eat with chopsticks nowadays, and you cannot stand out, Peter). She even – gag – flirted with the waiter. If she hadn't sneered at him when he spent too long in the shower that evening, he would have thought that the world had turned on its head.

* * *

He woke up at 6am sharp, got up, and bounced a few times on his bed before trying different ways of climbing on it and jumping off of it. He had always been very good at gymnastics, and loved hanging upside down for some reason. A bird on a branch outside of his flat was looking at him, and he laughed to himself, embarrassed that he had been seen by a life form while having childish fun. He sobered up as he looked at the his alarm clock. May didn't tolerate tardiness. He got dressed, putting on a red t-shirt with jeans and white sneakers, then quickly had breakfast - three slices to bread with some jam left by May before she left for her work at SHIELD a few minutes before. Looking at the time again, he quickly left the flat, jumping down the stairs a few steps at a time.

Peter speed-walked to the subway station, and down into the earth. It was overwhelming, and he winced, forcing himself to keep walking. Sensory signals enveloped him - lights, sounds, smells that he hadn't experienced in many years were everywhere. The world span for a bit, and he braced himself against a wall. A few people looked at him, and it took all of his willpower to push himself off the wall and start walking again. After a few minutes, the ringing in his ears faded. He reached his train's platform and let himself relax.

Looking around, he took a train ticket out his bag. May had left a couple of tickets on the shelf near the door, and he was under strict instructions to only use two a day, to go and come back from school. He had never been on the subway, but he knew enough to go on the correct platform and take the train going in the correct direction, even while having a sensory overload. On his right, excited children were shouting 'long time no see', 'summer holidays were the best thing ever' and other school-related stuff. The young teenager smiled to himself. He would do this for them, for the future that Hydra would give them. He could take the hard training and the sacrifices if it meant providing millions with a better life.

The train rapidly arrived, and there was no seating space left. If not for his training, he would have stumbled into many commuters. The train movements were foreign to him, and he jumped the first few times that a speeding train went past his wagon, in the other direction.

People were starting to pile up in his train even more, some of them of high school age. He was starting to feel anxious, and felt like someone was watching the back of his neck. One quick look told him that a Hydra operative that he had seen a few times around the base was sitting in the corner of the wagon, watching him over a magazine. He was probably here to make sure that Peter didn't get lost on his first day. The soon-to-be high schooler got off the train at the same time as a group of students, and he slowed down his pace, walking a few meters behind them to Midtown School of Science and Technology.

After a long-winded affair of queueing, finding his locker, and orientating himself, he forced his way through hordes of students, to get to the second floor.

His first period was Physics. He was the first one in the classroom. He went to sit in the middle rows, not wishing to stand out by going to the front or the back – he remembered that much teacher-student psychology from his one year in primary school, before Hydra. Other students rapidly arrived in the classroom, and one of them chose to sit next to him.

"Hi, I'm Ned", he said, grinning, "I don't recognise you from last year, what's your name?"

Peter smiled at him, and spoke to another person of his age for the first time in years.

"Peter Parker. It's nice to meet you." Leaning in, Peter stage-whispered to Ned, thinking back to his 'teenage behaviour' class that his sociology tutor had made him go through at the base, "So, what is the physics teacher like?"

Ned looked about to answer when said teacher walked into the classroom. He sat down at the front desk, pulled up the class register, and quickly went through the list of names. As expected, Peter didn't recognise any of his classmates' names. He did learn that Ned's last name was 'Leeds'. Some students turned towards him when his name was called, and he shrugged and smiled at them. The class started with an introduction to particles and waves. Peter knew the material because of his training, and let himself relax slightly. He was sitting next to the window, and a few birds were chirping on a nearby tree. The school's gym was a few meters away from the main building. He was really looking forward to trying out the school's climbing wall. After some time, the bell rang, and everyone rapidly packed their bags and walked to their next period.

Just before lunch break, Peter went to his locker to get his Spanish book for the afternoon class. Ned had walked with him to the lockers, and they were in a deep conversation about their favourite type of pasta. "Bolognese," he said. "Never, Carbonara is the absolute best, which planet are you from?" answered Ned.

Stuffing his Spanish textbook into his bag, Peter quickly locked his locker, when he felt someone approaching him from behind. He turned around, and recognising the kid from his Physics class, casually asked, leaning back against the lockers,

"What's up, Eugene?"

Ned had made a quick run-down of the kids in their Physics class, and had winced slightly when he had mentioned Eugene 'Flash' Thompson's name.

The kid in question's eyes turned dark. Two older, bulky students were flanking him left and right.

"It's Flash, midget." 'Flash' sneered at Ned, who was standing still behind Peter. "Quick advice, don't stick to losers or you'll become one too."

Peter couldn't help himself, and smiled sweetly, "You would know a lot about that, wouldn't you?"

Flash snarled, and went to punch him straight in the face. Moving in a blur, Peter stepped to the side and proceeded to grab Flash's wrist in one swift movement. He could feel Ned's eyes going wide, and he internally winced. Hopefully Ned would just shrug his action off and forget about it. Keeping a calm composure, Peter looked up at his attacker.

"Look, Eugene. You might have superiority issues, but that doesn't mean you are entitled to take your frustration out on people." Peter let go of his wrist. Flash looked too surprised to say anything. Next to him, Ned pointed to Peter, and then to the cafeteria, and mouthed 'Go, go, go."

Peter looked back at Flash, eyes darkening, "Don't bother Ned or me again."

The two bulky kids accompanying Flash looked about to jump on him, but Flash, sensing many students' eyes trained on him, gestured at them to stay still before turning and walking off, pretending that nothing had happened.

Ned blurted out as soon as Flash was out of hearing distance, "Woah, nice reflexes. And do you think that you could teach me how to do that death glare?"

* * *

Peter was walking home, smiling to himself. Putting the incident with Eugene Thompson aside, it had been very easy to act like a normal high school student. His classmates had been a bit surprised at his slightly young age, but his extensive knowledge of all things science-related had rapidly justified his place among them.

Ned had nearly spat out his spaghetti at lunch when he had asked Peter which Star Wars movie was his favourite, and Peter had said that he hadn't seen any of them. A few students sitting behind them and not-so-discreetly eavesdropping had chocked slightly. Apparently, Star Wars is a big thing, Peter reflected.

The teen's back story was that he had lived a very isolated life in Canada with his Aunt, who had sorely missed New York hustle-and-bustle. In August, she had spontaneously decided to move back, taking her nephew with her. No one doubted that his life had been very sheltered up to now, as he had missed a few references and puns, making Ned shake his head in mock-despair, throughout the day.

All in all, Peter was thinking that he could get used to this undercover mission.

Bouncing up the stairs to his flat, he forced himself to adopt neutral features before knocking at his door and entering the flat. He wasn't surprised to find May deep in discussion with the white-haired woman from the day before. They both stood up and came towards him.

"Project, please report on your day."

He looked down, and said, with trepidation:

"I successfully infiltrated the school. Waiting for further instructions."


	5. The contest

A few weeks went by. Peter was rapidly making a name for himself at school, as a science 'wiz', much to the pleasure of his mission handlers. He was still waiting for further instructions, and wondered why he had been assigned to Midtown High. However, he wasn't going to bring this up to May, as she would use any excuse to go back to the Hydra base. She was getting increasingly snappy at him - even the neighbours were starting to notice that her smile was forced, but thankfully they didn't say anything. Peter did his best to avoid her and spend the most time in his room 'to do his homework'. Every weekend, he travelled to an abandoned warehouse near his flat and met with the Asset for his physical training. He missed training at the base with the Asset only, because here a few high-ranked Hydra doctors and scientists came to sit at the side of the room, watching his every move and scribbling notes down with excitement. He knew better than to ask why they came to his training sessions, however, but was silently dreading his return to the Hydra base plannified for the Christmas holidays.

Ned had invited him for a sleepover a few times. After days of asking May if he could go, she caved in, but "this is the only time, Peter. I'm only letting you go to maintain your cover. Hydra would not be pleased if people suspected anything."

Peter's blood chilled at that, as he knew too well what Hydra, and possibly worse, his relatives, would do to him if he failed to accomplish his mission. But that didn't stop the young teenager from having the time of his life at Ned's place, building the Death Star with Lego bricks after a Star Wars marathon. Ned told Peter that he needed to catch up on years of good movies, and after watching Star Wars, Peter could only agree. The movies were just too good! He could envision himself as a modern-day Jedi, and that made the young teenager feel much better about his undercover mission.

At 3am, Ned's mum burst into the bedroom and berated them for still being awake. The scene was slightly similar to his uncle coming into his room to drag him out of bed to one of the medical tests, and Peter had started to shake slightly. Thankfully Ned didn't notice his reaction, and after a few deep breaths, Peter returned to normal.

His friend stood up to unplug his laptop charger and turn the lights off. Peter leaned back into his makeshift bed and closed his eyes. He couldn't help but see that Ned's mum was caring and sweet, the complete opposite of his relatives. He wondered, again, what his life would have been like if Hydra hadn't existed.

Peter berated himself for his thoughts. Although his relatives' treatment of him wasn't ideal, he had an important role to play. His training and the medical tests were small sacrifices to make for the betterment of the world. He was like a Jedi, or better yet a padawan, training for a grand purpose. Repeating this to himself a few times, he fell into an agitated sleep, dreaming about Californian sun, easier days, and a city made of gold.

Ned's alarm rang out way too soon for both boys, and they staggered out of his bedroom, eyes half-open, to get ready for school. They ended up running to the subway and making it into their physics classroom just as the school bell rang.

The teacher smiled at them as they sat down, amused, before addressing the class.

"I've got some important announcements to make today. First, there will be an in-class test as soon as I stop talking", he smirked as everyone loudly sighed before continuing, "and this is perfectly within my bounds, so there's no point in complaining."

His eyes sweeped across the classroom, stopping for an instant on Peter.

"Secondly, this school, as you probably know, takes part in a national science exhibition held here in New York during the first week of December. Every student in this school has a month to prepare an individual project. We will select the most innovative work to represent our school at the exhibition. This is a chance for you to be noticed by future employers, like Stark Industries."

Atthis, the whole class erupted into excited whispers. Peter's eyes went wide – this was why he had been sent to Midtown High. The school was just his springboard to get into Stark's tower.

He recalled Ned's admiration for Tony Stark, and frowned. His classmates shouldn't be excited to have the opportunity to intern for him. Stark and the Avengers were cold-blooded murderers. Many of the people at the base sent out on assignments had been killed by the Avengers and by SHIELD over the years. And since he was 8, the knowledge that the Hydra base he lived in could be destroyed by them had been engrained in him through many terrifying and stressful drills and simulations of attacks. Once when he was 10, he had been running into the stronghold where he was supposed to hide himself from SHIELD if they attacked, when an explosion – supposed to represent the effect of one of Iron man's repulsors - had propelled him into a wall, snapping his wrist, and leaving him with a nasty ringing in the left ear for a few months. Ever since then, he had had a very sour image of the 'man of iron'. He rubbed his ear, forcing himself to take long breaths.

Peter had also gone through specific physical training to make him resistant to the Avengers' trademark weapons. He particularly disliked Thor and his lightning – scientists at the lab had electrocuted Peter with varying intensities of shocks once a few years ago, and discovered that he could withstand very high currents without outwardly showing any pain. This medical trial had led his trainers to desensitise him to most electrical shocks through a few very painful sessions, knowing that the young boy could take it. Peter knew that this was so that he could resist Thor's attacks, but he still had many nightmares about the Asgardian after this, and flinched whenever there was a thunderstorm.

He snapped back into the present when an exam script was placed in front of him. He gritted his teeth. This was going to be a long day.

At lunch, Ned and MJ – a girl with a puzzling attitude and a wicked sense of humour – sat down next to him.

Ned, who had looked even more hyper than usual since the physics teacher's announcement, said, "I can't wait to get home and start brainstorming for ideas for that science project. Last year I made a small R2D2 model that could project Leia's hologram," he recounted with stars in his eyes, "so this year I will perhaps work on C3PO. He's a bit tougher to build though, more joints and limbs."

MJ rolled her eyes at this and stabbed her brussels sprouts with her fork, "I'm not going to take part in a contest aimed at getting us a well-paid job so that we join a mind-numbing consumerist society".

She finished her sprouts, opened a book, and started to read.

After a beat, Ned asked Peter what he was thinking of doing. Peter had given some thought to this during the Chemistry period, and knew what he was going to do.

"I was thinking of doing a material science project. Like a sticky, elastic, and very resistant substance that you could use for', Peter moved along the bench to let another group of students sit down next to them, before continuing "holding things together. It could be useful for disaster relief, you know, to hold buildings together in case of earthquakes, for instance."

MJ, who hadn't actually been reading – she was still on the same page - looked mildly impressed at that, but that could just be Peter imagining it.


	6. The science fair

**Thank you very much for the kind reviews!**

* * *

Peter yawned and rubbed his eyes. Tomorrow – or later today? – was the national science fair.

He'd worked on his project, a spider web-like material that was resistant, sticky, and elastic at the same time, a few hours every day for the past few months. Peter's mission handlers at Hydra proposed to lend him some equipment for his project, but he refused. He wanted to go at it fair and square, and lost many hours of sleep hoping that it would be enough.

Last week, his project won against hundreds of submissions at Midtown. He had to go up on a stage in his school's lecture theatre, and display his spider web fabrication process, derivatives of with varied resistances and stickiness, and different applications of the web. He even made some during his talk using catalysers and quick and precise movements while he talked, which had made his chemistry teacher swoon.

Many other students also spent a lot of time on their projects, but eventually the level of detail and the practical uses of Peter's project made him win. His class – baring Flash, who kept sneering at him at every occasion, making Peter roll his eyes – had cheered loudly, and Ned had followed him around all day, making "thwip, thwip" sounds while doing some elaborate hand gestures that were supposed to make webs come out of his wrists like a real spider. Peter had heartily laughed at that, and told Ned he would be a very cool spider-man.

Peter was enjoying himself at Midtown high, and the prospect of going back to his isolated life at the base at some point in the near future was becoming more and more daunting. Over the last month, Ned and he had become closer friends, and Ned often asked questions about his life in "Canada". Peter was confident that he had successfully dodged any suspicions for now but he wished his friend would get the hint and stop asking. He knew that his mission handlers were not pleased about Ned, but they couldn't really do anything about him because Peter's cover had to be maintained.

Peter stopped reminiscing, and rubbed his eyes, yawning. One look at his alarm clock told Peter that it was almost 2am, so he turned off his laptop with a sigh. Although he was very happy to have been selected – both on a normal high schooler's perspective, and because it meant he didn't have to go back to the Hydra base just yet -, he was increasingly anxious about Stark Industries. His mission handlers had told him multiple times that he had to impress SI and convince them to offer him an internship, and Peter hoped that his presentation would be good enough. But there was no use stressing out about it right now, and what he really needed was to rest. Surprisingly, sleep came to him very rapidly, and he woke up with a jump at 6am because of his alarm.

* * *

The fair was taking place at the American Museum of Natural History, near Central Park, and Peter had to change trains a few times to get there. He was becoming increasingly anxious, and it took him all of his years of training not to just stand up and leave. He finally reached the right station, so he got off the train, and walked up the stairs into the museum, showing his school ID to the security at the entrance. They gave him a name tag, a lunch ticket, and a bottle of water, before showing him to his small stall.

Many teenagers were already there, anxiously whispering to each other. Peter sighed and told himself to focus. His mission was becoming more daunting with each passing minute.

He quickly set up his demonstration – his small-sized building model, held in place by webs, his chemistry equipment ready to make more webs, and some strength calculations on his laptop screen – before brushing his palms against his black dress pants – lent to him by Hydra – and checking his phone for the time. Two minutes and the visitors would arrive. He was so tense that he felt like he would jump all the way to the ceiling if someone so much as tapped his shoulder. Telling himself to relax again, he looked around at the other students.

A girl, around 18, was setting up her project at the stall on his left, and was almost in tears. Peter didn't hesitate, and asked her if he could help. Apparently, her groupmates were going to be late, and that one of their robots, a miniaturised rover, similar to the ones on Mars, was malfunctioning. She had been the one writing code to make them move, but didn't know how the mechanics worked. Peter nodded, quickly looked at the robot, and asked her for a screwdriver, before taking off running through the museum, looking for one, when she said that she didn't bring one to the fair.

It turned out that the security people at the entrance have a very complete stash of screwdrivers, and Peter thanked them profusely before running back to the stalls. Behind him, the doors opened, and people flooded the rooms.

The girl hurriedly gave him the small rover, her face flushed and her eyes flicking at her phone every few seconds.

"Thank you so much, Peter", she said, looking at his name tag. "My friends are on their way now and should be here in 15 minutes, but if you could try to look at my robot beforehand it would be great."

She looked like him with a smile, but he could tell that she doubted that the younger teenager could fix it. He smiled at her.

"That's no problem, miss Hannah. I'll look at it now."

With that, he took the robot and unscrewed the lid hiding its mechanics. A few minutes, and some rotor twisting and tests later, the robot was back on Hannah's stall, who mouthed "thanks, but how?" at him while he walked back to his stall.

A few seconds later, representatives from Pym Tech greeted her and she started her presentation. They listened to her with interest, asking her to find them later when her groupmates arrived, before turning to Peter.

"Hello, could you explain your project to us?", said the woman leading the group. She had a no-nonsense face, but laugh lines around her eyes and mouth.

"Yes, of course ma'am. I've been working on developing a chemical formula for a material that has very useful properties: it is flexible, resistant, elastic, and adherent."

He held out for them a lab tube containing some of it, and pulled out a string with small tweezers.

"I first got the idea when I was looking at a spider web in one of the trees outside of my high school. Imagine what we could do with such a material, in many situations. It could be used on different scales, from band-aids to holding buildings together after an earthquake."

He gestured at his small buildings, made of Lego bricks, and proceeded to apply some of his web between them to show that the different bricks couldn't be pried apart due to the web's resistance. After that, they looked mildly impressed.

Out of the corner of his eye, Peter saw Stark Industries' representatives listening in from a few meters away. One of them was wearing sunglasses and a strongly familiar goatee. Peter swallowed down, and kept as calm as possible, ignoring years of Hydra conditioning to prepare him for the Avengers. He still couldn't help but rub his left ear, which gave a throb. Iron man's repulsors were no joke. Focusing on his project, he continued, his voice wavering slightly.

"Here are some calculations I have done to assess the real-life use of my web. A single strand is enough to hold up a truck, and is flexible enough to expand by fifty times, and twist at will. What is also really promising about this material is that you can make it relatively easily if given the right ingredients, and you can compress it and store it for months without any alteration of its properties. A single push of a button can release a couple of cubic meters of webs, so it it is very practical in terms of transportation and use. Now if you would..."

* * *

Tony Stark had been having a great night/morning session in his lab when he got Pepper's call. He winced, and picked up.

"Tony, where are you right now?"

"Um, in the lab, why?"

Somehow, Tony knew that this wasn't what Pepper wanted to hear, but he couldn't remember where he was supposed to be.

"Today is the national high school science fair. It's 9:30am right now, and you agreed to go to give a speech at 10. I know that you have cancelled public events like this at the last minute in the past, but this time it would be really good if you went. The press will be there, and the last images of you that the world has are from Sokovia."

Tony closed his eyes, rubbing his face.

"Of course, Pepper, sorry. I'll be there in 20. It's at the history museum, right?"

She confirmed it, surprised that he remembered the location. He reminded her that he was a "genius inventor, with quirks" and ended the call. Tony threw on a new shirt, a jacket, and sunglasses, and walked out of the Stark/Avengers Tower, Happy close behind.

He made it to the museum with almost 15 minutes to spare, and keeping his sunglasses on for a semblance of discretion, walked around the stalls displaying the high schoolers' work. A few of his employees were following him, making him look like one of the PR pelple walking around to look for the best candidates for their companies' internship programs.

A few projects looked interesting, but one really caught his attention. It was presented by a boy, younger than his peers by at least three years, who was discussing the properties of a spider web-like material with Pym Tech people. Seeing him standing alone and talking about advanced science strongly reminded Tony of himself decades prior, making him pause and want to listen to the kid's rehearsed speech. The boy clearly had done the whole project by himself, and the equations displayed on his laptop were by far worthy of university-level work. The kid himself was rather short, with bright green eyes and unkept brown hair, and his facial features strongly reminded Tony of someone he knew. Not Banner, not Clint,…

His musing was interrupted when the kid addressed him directly, asking, with a bright smile and slight challenge in his voice, which of Pym Tech or Stark Industries he should aim for. Tony was under the strong impression that the kid had recognised him in spite of his disguise and was humouring him.

The Pym Tech people started to tell him that their company had strong chemistry and material science research teams, but Tony interjected and asked him what he knew about robotics and mechanical engineering. The girl presenting at a stall nearby heard his question, and brought over a mini rover that looked NASA-worthy, saying that Peter had fixed it that morning and that it was moving more smoothly than ever before.

Tony raised his eyebrows and nodded at his employees. As they extended an internship application form to Peter, he told him, taking his sunglasses off for the dramatic effect, "Congrats, you have an offer from Tony Stark himself."

The girl gasped, while the kid gave him a smile, that Tony noticed, from years of living with spies, didn't quite reach his eyes. However, he was called onstage for his speech before he could find out what was up with him.

For some reason, maybe because of the kid's familiar face, or brilliant mind and quick wits, Tony felt like it was his responsibility to figure him out.

Hewould have plenty of time at the tower for that though. Pepper surely wouldn't mind if Tony invested himself a bit more in SI's internship program.

* * *

**I hope you liked this chapter and please ignore the messed up timelines in this story. Also don't forget to review :)**


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